Meeting her vampire husband: Excerpt from my book The Lighthouse

An excerpt from my book “The Lighthouse”:

Randall met me at the door that evening with a smile, a vigorous (though chilly) handshake and a boisterous,

“Hello, hello, friend Josh! Welcome to our mini-mansion. Do you want a drink?”

“Do you have Mountain Dew?” I asked.

“Yes, we do. Candida says she can’t survive without it or chocolate. I understand her addiction, since I have my own.” He grinned with his eyebrows drawn together.

An image flashed through my mind of Randall pouring blood from a vial–or maybe from his own veins–into a can of pop. “Could I–have that in a glass–a clear glass, please?”

Randall frowned for a moment in confusion, but then he said, “All right, whatever you wish.”

“I’ll get it for you,” Candida said. She bounded off down the hallway to the kitchen. At least she was still bouncy and vibrant, which I had always loved about her.

Randall offered me the loveseat. He sat in a wicker chair adjacent to it. I hoped he didn’t notice as I swept my gaze over the seat before sitting down. Nope, no blood or–um–emissions from him and Candida–um–christening the house’s furniture. Another image flashed through my mind: Candida naked in his arms. I got a wincing headache.

“So–um–who are you?” I asked.

“Mr. Candida, Randall Ankh.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Ankh? The Egyptian symbol for life?”

“Yes. Unusual name, isn’t it? My parents changed their last name to it. They held great stock in symbolism and loved to study ancient Egypt. This idol of Set came from them.”

He put his hand on a small stone statue of a two-legged, muscular being with a dog-like face, long ears and a loincloth. Candida allowing an idol in her house was odd enough, but wasn’t Set supposed to be evil, killing his own brother Osiris?

Candida bounced back into the room with a tall glass of Mountain Dew, nearly splashing it on me as she handed it to me.

“And what is your last name?” Randall asked.

I flinched. I meant my question to be more probing, a way to get him to confess, “Yes, I am a vampire, and my last name is ironic considering the death and destruction I bring.” But he turned it right around on me before it had a chance to work. Not that I knew how it could work, anyway.

“Hilfe. It’s German for ‘help.’ You know, in case you hear anybody say, ‘Hilf mich,’ that’s what they mean: ‘Help me.’”

He did not seem to notice my subtle barb. “Any friend of Candida’s is a friend of mine, and she tells me you’re one of her best. I had to let you into our house because she would not stop talking about you. Perhaps I should be jealous.” His eye flashed red, then went back to steel gray. “When you get a treasure like Candida, you don’t want to let her go.”

Didn’t I know it.

I scratched my eyebrow, probably a nervous tic. I found Randall more disconcerting the more amiable he seemed.

“Oh, you haven’t even touched your drink,” Candida chirped from beside the wicker chair.

The doorbell rang. I jumped. Some of my drink splashed. Candida called out “hello” when Randall trotted to the door and opened it. A few “heys” showed it was an old friend of Randall’s. This friend walked in, another pale-faced young man, though black. His clothes were dark blue, well-cut and expensive. I’m not much of a judge of male looks, but he seemed to be in the same category as Denzel Washington or Billy Dee Williams. That meant he caused lust in any woman of any race. That meant I was the ugly one in this house.

“Josh, Candida, this is Vincent,” Randall said. “Shall I get you a drink?” he asked Vincent.

“Oh, yes, the usual,” Vincent said. “I’ve had nothing to drink all evening.”

Randall trotted off.

“Are you a friend of Randall’s?” Vincent asked.

“No, Candida’s,” I said.

“How long have you known her?”

“Since spring.”

“I’ve only just met her, myself. So this is she, the beautiful Candida.” He nodded at her in a way so smooth and chivalric it made me jealous.

Candida flushed and grinned back at him boldly. My likelihood of catching her eye was getting worse all the time.

Randall returned with a wineglass full of a sanguine liquid. Wine, yes, it must be red wine. Yet when Vincent drank it, it made bloody stains on the side of the glass. No, no, it’s wine, it’s got to be wine. My head felt light. I turned my gaze to the Mountain Dew, hoping to get the image out of my head. I had to get the phantom, iron taste of blood out of my mouth. I took a sip. I couldn’t stop myself; I imagined the liquid going down my throat was not Dew, but blood. I gagged. My head spun. Candida leaped to my side.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I gazed at her without speaking. Through fuzzy vision I turned to Vincent and then Randall, who sat there with his eyebrows drawn together in what looked like concern. He was so pale, so–

I had to get out of there. “I’m sorry, Candida; I’m not feeling well. I have to go home.”

“Don’t be silly. We can take care of you here.” She stroked my hair. All my nerve endings begged me to stay and let her keep doing that, but I could not do it.

“No, really, I’d much rather be in my own room.”

I jumped up, grabbed my coat and ran out of the house, never minding how dizzy I was. Candida soon ran after me, throwing on her coat and carrying my glass of pop.

“You forgot this,” she said. “I’ll walk you back to campus and make sure you get to your room all right.”

I hugged her. How I wanted to stay nestled in her softness. “It’s sweet of you, but I can’t let you walk back by yourself in the dark. This is the city, after all.”

She smiled, kissed my cheek, handed me the glass and turned back.

As I walked, I drew in deep breaths of the chill air, blowing them out and watching the vapor. Back in my room, the glass sat untouched on top of the little box of a refrigerator in my room. My roommate was all too happy to take it off my hands, and I was all too happy to let him. I cleaned and returned the glass in the morning.

Though I loved Dew, it was many months before I could drink it again, especially from a glass.

–From “Candida” in my book The Lighthouse, e-book available for $3 at http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/nerissa

(This was originally posted on my author page, here.)

 

The Novel Form of “Metropolis”: Review, Part 2 (Repost from 2016)

by Thea Von Harbou

This isn’t a full review of themes and social issues and Von Harbou and Naziism such as I see in other reviews, but simply a reader giving her impressions as she goes along.  I have linked to reviews which do go deeper, which I have also consulted for help understanding this book.

Part 1

Spoilers Below!

There are various things which are different, or which delve more deeply into characters.  For example, when Rotwang works on giving Maria’s face to the robot, he’s described as lonely.  And that’s a difference: He gives her the face as an artisan, not as a magician/mad scientist throwing switches.  Though, of course, that scene in the movie is my favorite, what with the magical transformation of the robot and–yes–Rotwang looking so hot as he throws switches.

Another difference is the Paternoster machine.  In the movie,  Freder/Georgi-11811 work as one part of a larger machine which looks like a clock, eternally moving hands from one place to another.  In the book, the Paternoster (Our Father) machine is kind of a child-sized elephant-like thing with an appendage that hooks up to your brain and uses what it finds there.  Freder is eventually reduced to saying Our Fathers.

Another difference is Josaphat’s role.  He doesn’t just help Freder, but has a whole subplot of his own.  The Slim Man (the translation calls him this instead of the Thin Man) tries to bribe him into leaving, even throwing in a woman Josaphat badly wants.  Before, she has refused him, but the Slim Man has bribed her into giving herself to Josaphat if he accepts the offer.  But on the little plane out of Metropolis, Josaphat kills the pilot and parachutes into the countryside.  That’s how loyal he is to Freder, because he does this to help Freder as he promised.

Georgi’s escapades in Yoshiwara are not fully shown in the movie.  He takes a weird drug, Maohee, in a seedy lounge and ends up reducing all the club’s women (probably showgirls and prostitutes) to tears and hysterics.  Guy kinda went crazy.

A good description of what happened is here, describing how the drug worked and why it gave everybody a nervous breakdown: Basically, everybody tuned into one person’s thoughts while taking the drug, that person being Georgi this time, and all he could think of was working the Paternoster machine.

After Rotwang captures Maria, he holds her in his house even after the robot has taken on her face.  Freder goes into a feverish state after finding his own father making out with the doppelganger, who he thinks is Maria.

The robot doesn’t just do a weird-sexy dance in Yoshiwara: She is first introduced in the house opposite Rotwang’s by an “old man” acting as her father, probably Rotwang.  We don’t know for sure because we get the story from Freder’s friend, who doesn’t know Rotwang, but we can guess.

She does a strange shaky-trembly thing in front of the guests, a mix of men and women, then leaves.  Yet somehow she makes everyone feel naked and ashamed, full of hate toward each other–even between a young married couple who adore each other.  That “unbearable, cutting coldness” radiates from her, while the guests feel like they’re breathing fire.

Afterward, a young man, full of desire for her, begs to have her (as his wife, I assume).  He begs her “father” (again, probably Rotwang), his father begs them both, but she and Rotwang refuse.  Then she causes havoc by saying to the young man’s father, “You have no son.”  This reveals that the son was another man’s.  When the son overhears the confrontation between his parents, he kills himself.

And, of course, you wonder what happened to Freder’s robot.  At first you might think it’s gone over to Rotwang and become Maria’s doppelganger, except that Rotwang apparently built his own, so it must be a different robot….

As Freder suffers from heartsickness over Maria and the actions of her doppelganger, the robot with her face, Maria is catatonic in Rotwang’s house.  She will not move or speak, just sits in a chair, refusing to answer Rotwang.

Rotwang seems to have fallen in love with her.  In a long, melodramatic speech (typical for this book, which has been accused of purple prose), he says he’ll let her go, but begs her to stay of her own free will.  He doesn’t beg for her love, but for her pity.

He tells her that he’s doing this for Joh, a Will that forces him into being evil.  He thought any good inside him was dead, but no, he realizes that if Maria helps him defy Joh, he can be good again.

Unlike Joh’s mother, he doesn’t think that Hel loved him instead of Joh, but that Hel only pitied Rotwang–but that pity made him good.  Joh made him evil by taking his Hel away, but he longs to be good again, and begs for Maria’s help in that.

After saying he implores her pity, he changes his mind and says he does not implore her pity, but rather her fidelity.  I think he’s referring to the workers, who go to hear her but she’s not there to preach hope and peace.  She needs to show loyalty to them.

He even feels sorry for her, and hates that Joh has made him create a doppelganger to stir up the workers.  He tells her that Joh is using the doppelganger as his own mouthpiece, but the workers won’t know the difference, so they’ll trust the doppelganger.

I’m not sure why Joh wants to stir up his workers like that.  Is it all about not wanting to lose his son to Maria, not wanting to let his son grow up and find his own way, so he’ll resort to causing violence to make his son think Maria caused it?  Or is it to give him an excuse to wipe out the human workers and replace them with robots?  I think both are going on here, that Maria was a last-minute convenient addition to his plan to wipe out the workers, now that Rotwang has successfully created a robot.

In the movie, Rotwang tells Maria that Joh wants to incite the workers to violence so he can use force against them–which fits with my theory, except that the movie says nothing about Joh’s request for robot workers.  In the movie, Rotwang tells himself that Joh’s plan will lose him his son, which Rotwang must want.  Yet he tells Maria the robot is working for him, not Joh.  Except that his plan doesn’t seem all that different from Joh’s.

No wonder this confuses people, who wonder why Joh wants to incite his thousands of workers to violence, instead of letting them listen to the nice lady who tells them to be docile.  I’m danged bewildered.

In any case, in the book, Rotwang tries to stop Joh by begging Maria to come with him to the City of the Dead to speak to the workers, warn them of the doppelganger, and find Freder again.  So Rotwang isn’t so evil after all, assuming he told Maria the truth, rather than secretly wanting to frustrate any plan Joh makes.  But Joh is in the room, overhearing, and strangles him.

This wakes up Maria, who escapes through the trap door into the catacombs, despite Rotwang’s metal arm lying over it.

Meanwhile, Josaphat helps get Freder out of his fever and back to lucidity.

In Chapter 16, we finally get Joh’s reason for letting the doppelganger stir up the workers to destroy the city: The city is go to ruin so Freder can build it up again, as its savior, a Christlike figure.  Also, he ordered the destruction of the heart machine controlling the city so that Freder can redeem the ones who committed that crime.  Of course, this makes less sense than my own theory for why he did this, except maybe as a kind of crude metaphor of sin and redemption.

He says that he doesn’t fear the wrath of the workers against him because only one person could find him–his son–which leads to a Christ-metaphor.  The earlier death of Georgi is another Christ-metaphor, as he willingly dies in Freder’s place, stretches out his hands as if being crucified, and–in his death throes–leads Freder to warn the city.

Joh also lies to Freder, telling him that Rotwang died because he dared to stretch out his hands toward the one Freder loves.  He makes it sound as if he rescued Maria, probably to inspire Freder’s gratitude.

The next part of the book is especially chilling and powerful.  After Joh strangled Rotwang, Maria finally woke up from her catatonic state, and escaped down into the catacombs.  However, Joh dammed up a river to allow him to build the underground city for the workers.  And the workers’ destruction has allowed the water to start spilling back into the city.

As the water starts lapping at her feet in the catacombs, she imagines it speaking to her, telling her things like, it won’t let her get away, it’ll caress her curves and take liberties Freder never had a chance to.  She’s in the catacombs, full of the city’s 1000-year-old dead.  The “water” tells her all about the skeletons which are now moving around in the water, such as two skeletons “arguing” over whose skull is between them.  But the true owner of the skull is a third skeleton now rising up and falling on them both.  It is horrifyingly descriptive.

Maria gets to the underground city of the workers, but it seems deserted, even by the guard who should be the one to send up an alarm.  She tries to send it, but the siren only whimpers.

She discovers that the children are alone and neglected down there with her, so she tries to take them up and out.  But their parents, while going berserk on the surface at the doppelganger’s leading, have toppled trains and wreaked such damage on the machines, that the only exit to the surface, which opens upward, is covered with tons of wreckage.  Yes, there are piles of trains lying over the door.  PILES of TRAINS.  It’s impossible for her to get herself and the children out.

Finally she hears Freder up above, calls to him, and he finds Grot to help him clear the way with explosives.

You feel her claustrophobia, and her suppressed terror as she tries to calm the children, telling a young boy whose sister was hit by a stone that she’s only gone to sleep, that she’ll wake up in a much better place (Heaven).

You also discover that Grot feels betrayed by Joh, who told him to let the workers destroy the heart machine.  He spews all sorts of curses against Joh.  When he hears the underground city is flooding, and the way out is blocked, he wants to let the workers drown–until he hears it’s actually the children trapped in there.

You soon discover that blustering Grot has a soft spot for children.  Even as he rescues his two own children, he cusses at them.  But he does it with sobs, so you can tell he doesn’t mean it, and they probably can, too.  He wants to let Maria drown, mistaking her for the doppelganger, who led the destruction of his beloved heart machine.  But he’s easily subdued by the children as Freder rescues her.

Maria takes the children to the House of the Sons, where the female playthings of the city’s rich sons have been left on their own.  They didn’t know whether to flee or stay, so ended up staying.

Maria gives the children over to their care, where “the troupe of loving little harlots became a troupe of loving little mothers, burning with a new fire in the execution of their new duties.”  As the drink-mixer takes a sponge and begins to wash Grot’s daughter, the little girl takes the sponge and washes the drink-mixer’s face instead.  The drink-mixer begins to cry, and finally takes the little girl in her arms, full of love in a touching scene.

As Maria leaves and goes out into the street, she finds her doppelganger leading a group of insane, whirling dancers from Yoshiwara with torches, screaming, “Dance–dance–dance–Maohee!”  The dancers are a mix of men in evening dress and half-naked women.  One of the dancers, the friend of Freder’s who told him about the doppelganger’s effects on men and women, begs for the doppelganger’s attention, but she sets him on fire.

Then the monks of the cathedral finally get their turn, as the organ plays and the bells toll.  The monk Desertus leads a procession of his black-robed disciples, scourging themselves, and Gothics carrying a black cross.  Desertus hangs on the cross, staring at the dancers, and yells about Doomsday and Babylon the Great.  This pulls in the cathedral and the pictures of the book of Revelation, which seem to have little importance in the movie, but much more in the book.

The doppelganger tears her gown from her shoulders and breasts and goes around topless, telling Desertus to dance with her.

I have to wonder if this reflects the German landed aristocracy’s view of the sins of the city infecting the purity of the countryside.  Von Harbou, after all, was born to the German nobility.

Maria turns and runs away.  She runs into the workers and their wives, who have now turned on her, blaming her for everything.  They call her a witch, and seem to think that if they burn her, they won’t drown.

She runs to the cathedral, apparently because cathedrals have been traditional places of refuge, where you’re not supposed to kill anyone.  She collapses and doesn’t see the dancers collide with the workers and their wives.  The two groups fight as the doppelganger is grabbed and stamped to the ground.

After she collapses, the mob wants to burn her, but Josaphat fetches Freder to save her.  Freder is so determined to get to Maria before she burns that, in a car brought by Josaphat, he actually drives over the steel frame of a tower which fell over the street.

Only Rotwang is not dead, only thinks he’s dead, and, when he gets to the cathedral to find his Hel, thinks that Maria is Hel.  He sees his robot getting burned, and thinks they’re quite right to do so, because it was such a poor job of imitating Hel.

In fact, all Rotwang does now has nothing to do with Maria or Joh, and everything to do with his imagining Hel.  When he dies, it’s because he sees Hel in the clouds, waiting for him.  He wants to be with her, so he lets go of the cathedral’s Gothic ornamentation, which has been holding him up.  So even as he terrorizes and chases our heroine, we can still feel sympathy for him.

The ending is also different from the movie: Maria has collapsed again, exhausted, and Freder fears she is dying.  Instead of Maria putting Joh’s hand into Grot’s, speaking of a mediator, we have Joh coming, in his heart, to a realization of himself and what is good and right.  He reassures Freder that he has seen the face of death in his Hel, but Maria is only asleep.  Then he leaves them to see the workers, looking at him wondering if he will lead them.  Maria wakes up in Freder’s arms; she asks him to be the mediator.

Joh goes to see his mother again, who hears his confession and repentance, and reassures him with a letter from Hel.  Hel wrote the letter before she died, and told his mother to give it to him when he found his way home to his mother and to himself.  It tells him that she loved him and will always be with him.

So his mother says that he has three standing by to help him act on his change of heart.  He said two (I’m not sure whom he means by the two, since there are several possibilities, including Mom), but she says three, the third being Hel.

Now after re-reading this, I just watched the movie again, the one restored with most of the deleted scenes.  First of all, I wonder how anyone was supposed to follow the movie with half of it cut out.

Second, I note how vastly the movie has changed the storyline, with Josaphat’s role diminished, the monks gone completely, character motivations and scenes completely changed.  So even back in the 1920s, and even when the writer of the book also wrote the script, moviemakers mangled books!

Full review here.

[1/29/11 to 6/4/16]

Thea Von Harbou

Wikipedia on the novel

The Metropolis Overview, comparing/contrasting the book with the movie

Some reviews of the movie/novel:

The Unaffiliated Critic

Notes on Metropolis

Metropolis Bits n Pieces (includes information on Hel in mythology)

Metropolis

Please post any comments on the original post, here.

Took first chapter of my novel to Writer’s Club

Their response: “Wow.”

I was so nervous before I read it, almost wanted to just pretend I hadn’t brought it, hide it away.  As I read, I feared it was boring people, that they didn’t like it.

But then I finished and they said, “Wow.”  As in, a good wow.  As in, impressed.  A few helpful suggestions, but otherwise anxious to find out how the rest of the story is going to go.  It also excited the curiosity of our published author, who recently released a World War II novel.

Yes, this is the massive, complete rewrite of Unwilling Time-Traveler.  The reaction of the Club is encouraging, of course.  This story has filled my head for the past year, and still continuously drives me on.  I have to stop for a bit and read Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, but the ideas keep spinning in my head.

I have to get back to research to help put the puzzle of the ending together.  I know where I want things to go, but there are some details about the war that I need to get straight first.  It’ll also help me smooth out some difficulties in the midsection of the novel.

 

 

 

The Novel Form of “Metropolis”: Review, Part 2

by Thea Von Harbou

This isn’t a full review of themes and social issues and Von Harbou and Naziism such as I see in other reviews, but simply a reader giving her impressions as she goes along.  I have linked to reviews which do go deeper, which I have also consulted for help understanding this book.

Part 1

Spoilers Below!

There are various things which are different, or which delve more deeply into characters.  For example, when Rotwang works on giving Maria’s face to the robot, he’s described as lonely.  And that’s a difference: He gives her the face as an artisan, not as a magician/mad scientist throwing switches.  Though, of course, that scene in the movie is my favorite, what with the magical transformation of the robot and–yes–Rotwang looking so hot as he throws switches.

Another difference is the Paternoster machine.  In the movie,  Freder/Georgi-11811 work as one part of a larger machine which looks like a clock, eternally moving hands from one place to another.  In the book, the Paternoster (Our Father) machine is kind of a child-sized elephant-like thing with an appendage that hooks up to your brain and uses what it finds there.  Freder is eventually reduced to saying Our Fathers.

Another difference is Josaphat’s role.  He doesn’t just help Freder, but has a whole subplot of his own.  The Slim Man (the translation calls him this instead of the Thin Man) tries to bribe him into leaving, even throwing in a woman Josaphat badly wants.  Before, she has refused him, but the Slim Man has bribed her into giving herself to Josaphat if he accepts the offer.  But on the little plane out of Metropolis, Josaphat kills the pilot and parachutes into the countryside.  That’s how loyal he is to Freder, because he does this to help Freder as he promised.

Georgi’s escapades in Yoshiwara are not fully shown in the movie.  He takes a weird drug, Maohee, in a seedy lounge and ends up reducing all the club’s women (probably showgirls and prostitutes) to tears and hysterics.  Guy kinda went crazy.

A good description of what happened is here, describing how the drug worked and why it gave everybody a nervous breakdown: Basically, everybody tuned into one person’s thoughts while taking the drug, that person being Georgi this time, and all he could think of was working the Paternoster machine.

After Rotwang captures Maria, he holds her in his house even after the robot has taken on her face.  Freder goes into a feverish state after finding his own father making out with the doppelganger, who he thinks is Maria.

The robot doesn’t just do a weird-sexy dance in Yoshiwara: She is first introduced in the house opposite Rotwang’s by an “old man” acting as her father, probably Rotwang.  We don’t know for sure because we get the story from Freder’s friend, who doesn’t know Rotwang, but we can guess.

She does a strange shaky-trembly thing in front of the guests, a mix of men and women, then leaves.  Yet somehow she makes everyone feel naked and ashamed, full of hate toward each other–even between a young married couple who adore each other.  That “unbearable, cutting coldness” radiates from her, while the guests feel like they’re breathing fire.

Afterward, a young man, full of desire for her, begs to have her (as his wife, I assume).  He begs her “father” (again, probably Rotwang), his father begs them both, but she and Rotwang refuse.  Then she causes havoc by saying to the young man’s father, “You have no son.”  This reveals that the son was another man’s.  When the son overhears the confrontation between his parents, he kills himself.

And, of course, you wonder what happened to Freder’s robot.  At first you might think it’s gone over to Rotwang and become Maria’s doppelganger, except that Rotwang apparently built his own, so it must be a different robot….

As Freder suffers from heartsickness over Maria and the actions of her doppelganger, the robot with her face, Maria is catatonic in Rotwang’s house.  She will not move or speak, just sits in a chair, refusing to answer Rotwang.

Rotwang seems to have fallen in love with her.  In a long, melodramatic speech (typical for this book, which has been accused of purple prose), he says he’ll let her go, but begs her to stay of her own free will.  He doesn’t beg for her love, but for her pity.

He tells her that he’s doing this for Joh, a Will that forces him into being evil.  He thought any good inside him was dead, but no, he realizes that if Maria helps him defy Joh, he can be good again.

Unlike Joh’s mother, he doesn’t think that Hel loved him instead of Joh, but that Hel only pitied Rotwang–but that pity made him good.  Joh made him evil by taking his Hel away, but he longs to be good again, and begs for Maria’s help in that.

After saying he implores her pity, he changes his mind and says he does not implore her pity, but rather her fidelity.  I think he’s referring to the workers, who go to hear her but she’s not there to preach hope and peace.  She needs to show loyalty to them.

He even feels sorry for her, and hates that Joh has made him create a doppelganger to stir up the workers.  He tells her that Joh is using the doppelganger as his own mouthpiece, but the workers won’t know the difference, so they’ll trust the doppelganger.

I’m not sure why Joh wants to stir up his workers like that.  Is it all about not wanting to lose his son to Maria, not wanting to let his son grow up and find his own way, so he’ll resort to causing violence to make his son think Maria caused it?  Or is it to give him an excuse to wipe out the human workers and replace them with robots?  I think both are going on here, that Maria was a last-minute convenient addition to his plan to wipe out the workers, now that Rotwang has successfully created a robot.

In the movie, Rotwang tells Maria that Joh wants to incite the workers to violence so he can use force against them–which fits with my theory, except that the movie says nothing about Joh’s request for robot workers.  In the movie, Rotwang tells himself that Joh’s plan will lose him his son, which Rotwang must want.  Yet he tells Maria the robot is working for him, not Joh.  Except that his plan doesn’t seem all that different from Joh’s.

No wonder this confuses people, who wonder why Joh wants to incite his thousands of workers to violence, instead of letting them listen to the nice lady who tells them to be docile.  I’m danged bewildered.

In any case, in the book, Rotwang tries to stop Joh by begging Maria to come with him to the City of the Dead to speak to the workers, warn them of the doppelganger, and find Freder again.  So Rotwang isn’t so evil after all, assuming he told Maria the truth, rather than secretly wanting to frustrate any plan Joh makes.  But Joh is in the room, overhearing, and strangles him.

This wakes up Maria, who escapes through the trap door into the catacombs, despite Rotwang’s metal arm lying over it.

Meanwhile, Josaphat helps get Freder out of his fever and back to lucidity.

In Chapter 16, we finally get Joh’s reason for letting the doppelganger stir up the workers to destroy the city: The city is go to ruin so Freder can build it up again, as its savior, a Christlike figure.  Also, he ordered the destruction of the heart machine controlling the city so that Freder can redeem the ones who committed that crime.  Of course, this makes less sense than my own theory for why he did this, except maybe as a kind of crude metaphor of sin and redemption.

He says that he doesn’t fear the wrath of the workers against him because only one person could find him–his son–which leads to a Christ-metaphor.  The earlier death of Georgi is another Christ-metaphor, as he willingly dies in Freder’s place, stretches out his hands as if being crucified, and–in his death throes–leads Freder to warn the city.

Joh also lies to Freder, telling him that Rotwang died because he dared to stretch out his hands toward the one Freder loves.  He makes it sound as if he rescued Maria, probably to inspire Freder’s gratitude.

The next part of the book is especially chilling and powerful.  After Joh strangled Rotwang, Maria finally woke up from her catatonic state, and escaped down into the catacombs.  However, Joh dammed up a river to allow him to build the underground city for the workers.  And the workers’ destruction has allowed the water to start spilling back into the city.

As the water starts lapping at her feet in the catacombs, she imagines it speaking to her, telling her things like, it won’t let her get away, it’ll caress her curves and take liberties Freder never had a chance to.  She’s in the catacombs, full of the city’s 1000-year-old dead.  The “water” tells her all about the skeletons which are now moving around in the water, such as two skeletons “arguing” over whose skull is between them.  But the true owner of the skull is a third skeleton now rising up and falling on them both.  It is horrifyingly descriptive.

Maria gets to the underground city of the workers, but it seems deserted, even by the guard who should be the one to send up an alarm.  She tries to send it, but the siren only whimpers.

She discovers that the children are alone and neglected down there with her, so she tries to take them up and out.  But their parents, while going berserk on the surface at the doppelganger’s leading, have toppled trains and wreaked such damage on the machines, that the only exit to the surface, which opens upward, is covered with tons of wreckage.  Yes, there are piles of trains lying over the door.  PILES of TRAINS.  It’s impossible for her to get herself and the children out.

Finally she hears Freder up above, calls to him, and he finds Grot to help him clear the way with explosives.

You feel her claustrophobia, and her suppressed terror as she tries to calm the children, telling a young boy whose sister was hit by a stone that she’s only gone to sleep, that she’ll wake up in a much better place (Heaven).

You also discover that Grot feels betrayed by Joh, who told him to let the workers destroy the heart machine.  He spews all sorts of curses against Joh.  When he hears the underground city is flooding, and the way out is blocked, he wants to let the workers drown–until he hears it’s actually the children trapped in there.

You soon discover that blustering Grot has a soft spot for children.  Even as he rescues his two own children, he cusses at them.  But he does it with sobs, so you can tell he doesn’t mean it, and they probably can, too.  He wants to let Maria drown, mistaking her for the doppelganger, who led the destruction of his beloved heart machine.  But he’s easily subdued by the children as Freder rescues her.

Maria takes the children to the House of the Sons, where the female playthings of the city’s rich sons have been left on their own.  They didn’t know whether to flee or stay, so ended up staying.

Maria gives the children over to their care, where “the troupe of loving little harlots became a troupe of loving little mothers, burning with a new fire in the execution of their new duties.”  As the drink-mixer takes a sponge and begins to wash Grot’s daughter, the little girl takes the sponge and washes the drink-mixer’s face instead.  The drink-mixer begins to cry, and finally takes the little girl in her arms, full of love in a touching scene.

As Maria leaves and goes out into the street, she finds her doppelganger leading a group of insane, whirling dancers from Yoshiwara with torches, screaming, “Dance–dance–dance–Maohee!”  The dancers are a mix of men in evening dress and half-naked women.  One of the dancers, the friend of Freder’s who told him about the doppelganger’s effects on men and women, begs for the doppelganger’s attention, but she sets him on fire.

Then the monks of the cathedral finally get their turn, as the organ plays and the bells toll.  The monk Desertus leads a procession of his black-robed disciples, scourging themselves, and Gothics carrying a black cross.  Desertus hangs on the cross, staring at the dancers, and yells about Doomsday and Babylon the Great.  This pulls in the cathedral and the pictures of the book of Revelation, which seem to have little importance in the movie, but much more in the book.

The doppelganger tears her gown from her shoulders and breasts and goes around topless, telling Desertus to dance with her.

I have to wonder if this reflects the German landed aristocracy’s view of the sins of the city infecting the purity of the countryside.  Von Harbou, after all, was born to the German nobility.

Maria turns and runs away.  She runs into the workers and their wives, who have now turned on her, blaming her for everything.  They call her a witch, and seem to think that if they burn her, they won’t drown.

She runs to the cathedral, apparently because cathedrals have been traditional places of refuge, where you’re not supposed to kill anyone.  She collapses and doesn’t see the dancers collide with the workers and their wives.  The two groups fight as the doppelganger is grabbed and stamped to the ground.

After she collapses, the mob wants to burn her, but Josaphat fetches Freder to save her.  Freder is so determined to get to Maria before she burns that, in a car brought by Josaphat, he actually drives over the steel frame of a tower which fell over the street.

Only Rotwang is not dead, only thinks he’s dead, and, when he gets to the cathedral to find his Hel, thinks that Maria is Hel.  He sees his robot getting burned, and thinks they’re quite right to do so, because it was such a poor job of imitating Hel.

In fact, all Rotwang does now has nothing to do with Maria or Joh, and everything to do with his imagining Hel.  When he dies, it’s because he sees Hel in the clouds, waiting for him.  He wants to be with her, so he lets go of the cathedral’s Gothic ornamentation, which has been holding him up.  So even as he terrorizes and chases our heroine, we can still feel sympathy for him.

The ending is also different from the movie: Maria has collapsed again, exhausted, and Freder fears she is dying.  Instead of Maria putting Joh’s hand into Grot’s, speaking of a mediator, we have Joh coming, in his heart, to a realization of himself and what is good and right.  He reassures Freder that he has seen the face of death in his Hel, but Maria is only asleep.  Then he leaves them to see the workers, looking at him wondering if he will lead them.  Maria wakes up in Freder’s arms; she asks him to be the mediator.

Joh goes to see his mother again, who hears his confession and repentance, and reassures him with a letter from Hel.  Hel wrote the letter before she died, and told his mother to give it to him when he found his way home to his mother and to himself.  It tells him that she loved him and will always be with him.

So his mother says that he has three standing by to help him act on his change of heart.  He said two (I’m not sure whom he means by the two, since there are several possibilities, including Mom), but she says three, the third being Hel.

Now after re-reading this, I just watched the movie again, the one restored with most of the deleted scenes.  First of all, I wonder how anyone was supposed to follow the movie with half of it cut out.

Second, I note how vastly the movie has changed the storyline, with Josaphat’s role diminished, the monks gone completely, character motivations and scenes completely changed.  So even back in the 1920s, and even when the writer of the book also wrote the script, moviemakers mangled books!

Full review here.

[1/29/11 to 6/4/16]

Thea Von Harbou

Wikipedia on the novel

The Metropolis Overview, comparing/contrasting the book with the movie

Some reviews of the movie/novel:

The Unaffiliated Critic

Notes on Metropolis

Metropolis Bits n Pieces (includes information on Hel in mythology)

Metropolis